Free Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 03 - A Deadly Change of Heart by Gina Cresse Page B

the ramifications of providing inaccurate information to decision makers of multi-million dollar companies.
    I frowned and nodded.  “I see,” I said, turning to leave. 
    Mandy caught his attention before he returned to his office.  “Bradley, don’t forget you’re supposed to meet Pamela for lunch.” 
    I slowly gathered my purse and briefcase, stalling my exit to listen to the exchange between Parker and Mandy.
    Parker checked his watch.  “Today?  I’ve got a lunch appointment with…what’s his name…you know, the guy with the white BMW.”
    “Mr. Axtell.  You want me to call Pamela and cancel?” Mandy asked.
    Parker waved his hand in the air as if he were parting the Red Sea.  “Yeah.  We can go over the guest list some other time.  I don’t know why she needs me to be involved in every little detail of this wedding,” he complained.
    My ears perked up at the mention of a wedding.
    “Has Pamela gotten a dress yet?” Mandy asked.
    Parker shook his head and blew out a sigh of disgust.  “You kidding?  She hasn’t even thought about it.  I told her Vegas was the way to go, but she wouldn’t hear of it.  When the day comes and she’s not ready, she won’t have a choice.”
    I couldn’t believe my ears.  You can bet the girl has thought about a dress.  From the day she was twelve-years old, she’s thought about the dress she’d wear on her wedding day.  I dropped my purse and spilled all the contents on the floor, slowly gathering the items and neatly placing them back, one by one.
    Parker returned to his office as Mandy dialed the phone.  She tapped a pencil on her desk as she waited for an answer.  She pushed the tip of her long, red, false fingernail against the hook and pressed some more buttons.  “I can’t reach Pamela at home,” she said into the receiver.  “Want me to call the restaurant and leave a message for her?  Okay.  It was Tucker’s Grille, right?”
    I made a mental note.  Tucker’s Grille was about fifteen minutes away.  I finally got my stuff together and pushed my way out of the building.
    I parked in the restaurant lot with a view to the front entrance and watched as patrons entered and exited.  I waited until I saw a woman walk in alone.  I didn’t give her too much not ice because she was very young— too young to be marrying Bradley Parker.  When she walked out less than two minutes later with a very frustrated look on her face, I changed my tune.  As she marched toward her car she looked as though she’d like to punch out a window or break a few antennas. 
    I grabbed my cell phone, purse and the dress and piled out of the Ford.  I hoisted my purse on my shoulder, held the dress hanger over my head to keep it from touching the ground, and pressed the cell phone to my ear, trying to summon the most aggravated voice I could.  “What?  I’m already here at the restaurant,” I blurted into the phone, loud enough for the approaching woman to hear.  She glanced at me and immediately noticed the dress I held over my head.  “But I wanted to show you the dress.  Why can’t you make it?” I continued to whine into the phone.  The woman paused and gave me a concerned glance.  I acknowledged her sympathy and continued with my one-sided argument.  “It just would have been nice if you could have let me know a little sooner, that’s all.  You’re not going to do this to me on the wedding day, are you?” I said, laying it on thick.  “Fine.  Bye.” I said, flipping the phone off.  I struggled to open my purse when the woman offered to help.
    “Here.  Can I help?  I’ll hold the dress for you,” she offered, taking the hanger from me.
    “Thanks,” I said, handing the dress over so I could drop the phone in my purse.  “I’m so angry.  Sorry you had to hear all the gory details,” I said.
    She smiled.  “That’s okay.  We have more in common than you know.  My fiancé stood me up today, too.”  She admired the